Monday Morning Musings:
I am unsettled, unmoored
between light and shadow
but the shadows grow
the winds blow
I ponder as the pressure drops
watch the sky’s darkling mood
watch it brood
upon the future,
and darken more
(blacker than before)
it weeps,
perhaps remembering light
the song of birds
the hum of bees
thundering its sorrow,
growling like an angry drunk,
sunk in sorrow and pain
throwing punches in the rain
lightning flashes
charged particles, clashes
of hot air
in sound and fury
power displayed
but going nowhere
Far away,
on another world
a storm of swirling crimson, unfurls
sending out a song
in crashing waves
volatile and unpredictable
dazzling
ancient
larger than our earth
a spot forever turning
churning
over a world of gas
without firm ground
with nothing to stand upon
unsettled
NASA: This enhanced-color image of Jupiter’s Great Red Spot was created by citizen scientist Gerald Eichstädt using data from the JunoCam imager on NASA’s Juno spacecraft.
But here I stand
feet firmly planted
(head in the clouds)
as I look up at the sky
catching a melody in the wind
storms may rage
night may fall
on firm ground,
I wait for the light
The sun rises, my spirits do, too,
I hear the mockingbird sing in a sky of blue.
We go out to hear about wine
to learn from a man passionate about the science
and his craft
educated in universities in California and France
but there is art, skill, perhaps a bit of magic involved,
a master craftsman, a master craft
In the barrel room with Larry Sharrott of Sharrott Winery.
We taste wine from barrels
(settling)
sitting there for ten months or a bit more
not ready yet to go to tanks,
raised above the floor
kept cool by solar power
(to keep the wine from going bad and sour)
I think of the skill and craft of making barrels,
here, some are made from American oak
some from French or Hungarian oak
I learn the wine in American oak tastes different from that in the European
I like the symmetry of fruit of the vine kept in barrels from trees
my mind goes to the economy of colonial America
built with the help of barrels
though not of wine
barrel makers—coopers—found in every town
large barrels, hogsheads, terms of measurement
but we talk of wine here,
admire its color
swirl it to let in air,
smell it and taste it,
the barrel wine drier, more astringent,
the bottled wine, rounder and fuller,
I’m fascinated–
the knowledge, the skill, the passion
wonder how people first picked grapes
and learned to make wine
centuries ago
refining the process over time
though the science remains the same.
We drink Chambourcin
a glass at the winery, overlooking acres of grapes,
and birds in flight,
then more at our daughter’s house
we missed the Bastille Day celebration this year
but we have French-named wine
French cheese, a baguette
and chocolate cake
(yes, let us eat cake).
It is a beautiful evening
their dog plays
their cat watches
the shadows grow
but the summer light lingers
as do we
the storms but a memory in the blue sky
and I’m feeling moored, settled
my family and love,
the port in stormy and fair weather,
I hear the songs of the universe surround me.
We visited Sharrott Winery in Hammonton, NJ.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 
I really enjoyed this musing (must be the wine) and the way it unrolls from the initial thought, then back again. I would have liked more of Jupiter’s red spot though…
Thank you, Jane. (I’m glad the comments are working now.)
I had started a poem about the the great red spot, but didn’t finish it, so I used it here. Maybe I will go back and write another about it soon. Suddenly swamped with work again though–and also WAY behind on checking everyone’s posts.
Being swamped with work has its advantages. Just keep breathing 🙂
🙂
Your musing reflects the sound and fury of our gully-washer last evening. This morning has dawned bright and clear with grandson Curt mowing the soggy grass. He doesn’t know it yet, but when he’s finished, he’ll have cake too – mini chocolate eclairs.
I’m guessing you are still doggedly determined to get that manuscript ready for publication, that calming kitty as muse. Brava! I’m doing another memoir read-through and hoping to send the draft to another beta reader this week before our anniversary pause.
Thank you Marian. Yes, last Thursday and Friday we had thunderstorms. (Tornado warnings in PA.) I wasn’t feeling great on Friday. And yes, it turns out I have to write another chapter for a contributor who didn’t come through. UGH.
I’m sure you’re grandson will enjoy his treat. Good luck with your read through/edit.
I like the way this wanders off, and yet comes back to the mooring of family life, the calm after the storm. I hope your chapter goes well. You must surely be near the end now?
Thanks so much, Sarah!
I wrote two chapters that I did not expect to have to write, and now I suddenly have rewrite an article and research and write a third because another contributor didn’t come through. UGH! Thank you for asking. 🙂
That sounds extremely unfair. I do hope it goes OK.
Thank you!
There is magic that goes into winemaking–so complex!–like poetry. Why they go so well together. 🙂
and just exactly perfect:
“feet firmly planted
(head in the clouds)”
Thank you, Jennifer! 🙂
What a lovely day. Jupiter and wine too! (not to mention family, dog and cats) (K)
Thanks, Kerfe. It was a lovely day! 🙂
We had the same storms, or at least storms from the same system. I used to make wine — only mead but it’s a wine all the same — (and beer) and have always thought there was something magical about the fermentation process, of turning water, yeast, and a sugar of some kind (honey) into wine (or beer).
One of relatives, going way, way back, was a cooper.
Sounds like a lovely weekend. I love how you connected it all together (including Jupiter’s Great Red Spot). 🙂
Thank you, Robin. That’s interesting that you used to make wine and beer.
I’m still super busy, so Sunday was a nice break. I’m glad it turned out to be such a lovely day.
Loved every bit of it
Thank you very much!
I like the juxtaposition of this poem and its musings. How we can feel stable and moored and yet when we look out into the universe we realize that we are rushing along around and through space. A dizzying thought. Better to drink wine with family, relax with the happiness of animals, and feel secure within our sphere of belonging. Beautifully done
Thank you, Pam.
You’re right that it’s a dizzying thought–and I agree about the rest, as well. 😉
xo
Spirits and good spirits. What a lovely weekend!
Thank you, Ken. It was!
…shadows grow but the summer light lingers as do we…
Gorgeous words, Merril. Cheers to another great weekend upon us.
Thank you very much, dear Rose!
My pleasure, Merril. It’s a treat to read your words, and I don’t have to count calories 🙂
Hahahaha. 🙂
The musings of a melody, mockingbird and magic were softly, lightly placed into my mind. The other dissatisfied and stormy parts were quieted. As you went forward past the rain and other world of Jupiter, you found your mooring. It is like mine, among loved ones. This was lovely.
I haven’t expressed openly any comfort or sympathy over your obvious frustration (and disappointment) in co-horts not being able to be counted on, Merril. I have felt sad for your having to make up for chapters not submitted in a professional, researched manner. I hope this will very soon be a big bump/hurdle seen in the past! xo
Thank you very much, Robin, for both your kind comment about the poem and my other work. I have a busy day of writing ahead of me. It’s definitely frustrating dealing with people who do not respond to emails and either do no follow through or do not send work that is acceptable. This book will be all finished this week. Then I need to finish the next one. 🙂 Thank you again!
You’re welcome and I do feel bad you had to deal with your incomplete chapters or incompetent submitters.
❤